well. A featureless
concrete cube
about the size of the Kaaba
(implying no other comparison).
Around it, desert. The thing has its uses:
retains enough
of the awful day
to help you, if you cling to it,
through the awful night, and vice versa.
It will crumble over millennia but remain.
Conceals nothing, solid
concrete, has no mystery.
The mystery is everything –
everything –
outside.
[+]
Pollack is the uthor of two book-length narrative poems,
THE ADVENTURE and HAPPINESS, both published by Story Line
Press. He has other poems in print and online journals, and
is an adjunct professor of creative writing at George Washington
University.
